Thin Lines
by Settiai
Summary: In a world gone mad, the thin line between hatred and love sometimes becomes hard to distinguish. :: Draco/Hermione


Title: Thin Lines

Author: Settiai

Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and other related characters are all properties of J. K. Rowling, and related corporations. No infringement is intended. This story, such as it is, was written as a sign of respect and love for the characters, the show, and their creator. I claim no ownership of the aforementioned show and characters.

Rating: R

Explanation: This is my story for the Draco Malfoy Ficathon on LiveJournal, and it was written for light-sparkles.

Summary: In a world gone mad, the thin line between hatred and love sometimes becomes hard to distinguish.

Feedback: Comments and helpful criticisms are always appreciated.

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As Hermione stepped out onto one of Hogwarts' many lawns, a cold shiver ran down her spine. For just a moment, she could hear the laughter of dozens of children ringing through the air, and she could almost see students walking leisurely around her. A cold breeze suddenly rushed past her, however, snapping her out of her reverie as she pulled her dark cloak more tightly around her shoulders.

She sighed as the past faded away, leaving her staring at an almost desolate landscape. Her eyes moved over the clumps of dead grass that poked up out of the large tracts of dirt, and she couldn't help but remember how lush and green the school's grounds had been while she was a student there.

"So they're actually planning on opening this place back up?" a familiar voice from behind her suddenly drawled.

Hermione stiffened at the sound, and she couldn't help letting a trace of irritation make its way onto her voice when she replied. "Hogwarts survived for centuries, Malfoy. Did you really expect people to stand by and watch it decay?"

"After the bloodbath five years ago?" Draco asked softly as he stepped up beside her. "I'm surprised they didn't finish what the Dark Lord started and just destroy it."

He paused for a moment and glanced at Hermione for a moment. "It's good to see you again, Granger."

"I bet," Hermione muttered as she glanced over the landscape one more time before turning around and heading back inside the castle. "Especially since we've always been **such** good friends."

"There's no need for sarcasm," Draco said with a hint of indignation, the spoiled little rich boy he had once been showing through.

"I'm sure that you haven't forgotten about me being a Muggle-born, Malfoy. Or, as you so kindly put it on several occasions, a Mudblood," Hermione retorted sharply. "I haven't seen you in over two years, so what's with the sudden civility?"

"Considering that we were lovers, maybe I thought you'd appreciate a little courtesy," Draco shot back.

Hermione froze in mid-step, and fire flashed in her eyes as she spun around to meet his gaze. "We were never lovers. I was a scared nineteen-year-old who had just lost my two best friends, and you were an arrogant bastard who thought it would be fun to deflower a drunk Muggle-born."

"That's not exactly how I remember it," Malfoy replied coldly. "In fact, if I recall correctly, you were actually…"

"Just drop it," Hermione cut in, the glint in her eyes turning even more fiery.

"Fine," Draco said with a shrug. After a few seconds had passed, however, a tiny smirk began playing at the corners of his mouth. "As long as you remember that I'm one of the good guys."

In reply, Hermione merely let out a hollow laugh. "Yeah right," she replied after a moment or so. "The only reason you didn't become a Death Eater is because you didn't feel like becoming a lackey, and the only reason you betrayed your father is because you knew which side was going to win."

"Maybe," Draco said with an almost cheeky grin, "but people still consider me a hero."

Both of them were caught by surprise when Hermione's fist suddenly connected with his face.

Draco unconsciously took a few steps backward as his hand flew up to his face, and he barely managed to choke back the cry of pain that had automatically threatened to escape from his throat. In the meantime, Hermione merely stood there staying at the blood that was slowly trickling from his nose.

"What the fucking hell was that for?" Draco spluttered, an incredulous expression on his face.

His words brought Hermione hurtling back to reality, and there was loathing in her voice as she let her gaze focus on him. "You're anything **but** a hero," she answered through clenched teeth. "Harry was a hero. Ron was a hero. Severus, Remus, Tonks, Neville… they were heroes. **Everyone** who died fighting Voldemort was a hero. But you? You're nothing but a coward."

Draco's eyes flashed angrily, but before he had a chance to retort Hermione suddenly threw another punch in his direction. He easily caught her hand, however, and before she even realized what was happening he had practically flung her into the nearby wall.

"What the hell are you doing?" Hermione spat out as she glared at Draco. "Let me go!"

"No," Draco replied moments before he unexpectedly dropped her hand and instead grabbed her shoulders with both of his hands. Ignoring her loud protests, he abruptly leaned in and pressed his lips hungrily against hers.

Hermione struggled for several seconds, but her body quickly began working against her. Her mouth seemed to gain a will of its own as it willingly opened enough to allow Draco's tongue inside, and an uncomfortable heat began to rise through her body as he pressed his against hers.

Before she even knew what was happening, Hermione found herself laying on her back, wearing a great deal less clothing than just a few minutes earlier. As Draco straddled her, he gave her a knowing smirk. "Who would have thought that Little Miss Perfect likes to play dirty?"

"I hate you," Hermione whispered, but she didn't protest as Draco began to thrust.

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As Hermione opened her eyes, she immediately realized where she was. It took her a few seconds to remember exactly why she was laying on the floor of what had once been Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry though, but as memories from earlier came flooding back she let out a sigh. "I am such a fool," she muttered softly.

She reluctantly sat up after a moment or two, grimacing as her body protested, and reached for the garments that she had discarded earlier. They were still strewn about, and what appeared to be footprints were on a few of them.

After pulling on most of her clothing, she reached over to grab her cloak. As she touched it, however, the shimmering form of a young girl floated right through it as she moved up out of the floor. Hermione recognized the ghost almost instantly, and it took quite a bit of restraint to keep herself from letting out a moan of frustration as she grabbed her cloak and pulled it on.

"Hello Myrtle," she said with forced politeness as she pushed herself to her feet. "It's been a long time."

Moaning Myrtle merely smiled as she hovered a few feet above the ground. "He left while you were sleeping."

Hermione didn't even bother asking who Myrtle was referring to, and she merely shrugged before walking toward the doorway at the end of the hall. "I'd expect nothing less from him," she called back over her shoulder.

Myrtle said something in reply, but Hermione was already too far away to hear it clearly. She kept walking toward the nearest exit though, not even pausing long enough to turn back toward the ghost.

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"…and I truly am pleased that all of you have chosen to accept the teaching positions that were offered to you," Headmaster McGonagall said with a bittersweet smile. "This year will be difficult, but I know that each of you will do your best."

Everyone gathered around her nodded understandingly, and as they glanced around the room it seemed as if each of them was picturing all those lost since the last time Hogwarts' professors had gathered together in preparation for a new school year. They were all brought back to the present, however, as the room's door suddenly flung open.

"Ah," McGonagall said as her eyes moved to the doorway, "it seems as if our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher has decided to join us. Good day, Professor Malfoy."

Hermione blanched at McGonagall's last two words, and she quickly glanced at the newest arrival. Draco stood in the doorway, a momentary look of surprise making its way onto his face as he caught Hermione's gaze. It faded after a few seconds though and was replaced by the cocky smirk that he so often wore.

_It's going to be an interesting year_, Hermione thought with a mental sigh. _A very interesting year indeed._


End file.
